


Property of Rumplestiltskin

by oceanofdarkness



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-25
Updated: 2012-08-25
Packaged: 2017-11-12 20:09:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/495194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceanofdarkness/pseuds/oceanofdarkness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rumplestiltskin does not approve of Belle's weekly teas with the Hatter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Property of Rumplestiltskin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bad_Faery](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bad_Faery/gifts).



> This ficlet was written as birthday smut for Bad-Faery, who requested "Belle/ Any RC character incorporating jealousy, possessiveness, and begging."

Rumplestiltskin comes out of the back room of his shop just as the bell over the door rings for the second time only to find the Hatter scurrying up to Belle with a book and a muttered,  _“You almost forgot this.”_ This would have been bad enough. The Hatter following Belle into the pawn shop is annoying even under the best circumstances. The fact that he then proceeds to  _hug_  her and call out cheerfully,  _“See you next week, Sweetheart.”_ is completely unacceptable, as is the fucking cheshire cat grin he flashes on his way out.

“Must he do that?” the pawn broker snarls when the door shuts behind the shameless intruder. The petite brunette making her way around the counter rolls her eyes.

“He only does it because he knows it bothers you.” She pauses when she reaches him to put her hands on his shoulders and lean up to place a kiss on his cheek, but Rumplestiltskin has other plans. He turns his head to capture her mouth with his and grabs her firmly by the waist, pushing her back against the counter so he can pin her in place with his body as his tongue parts her lips. She responds eagerly, arms coming around his neck and hands lacing through his hair to pull him closer.

When he feels he has thoroughly explored his little Belle’s mouth, Rumplestiltskin draws back to survey his handiwork. She is breathless, her lips swollen from his kisses, desire flashing in her lovely blue eyes. Yes, he decides. That will do. She offers him an indulgent smile.

“Has it ever occurred to you that your determination to claim me every time I get back from these weekly teas is hardly a deterrent?”

“Hmmm…” he murmurs, pressing closer. “That could be something to consider…” he offers her a leer worthy of their time in the Dark Castle, wags a finger at her, and is rewarded with a husky laugh. “… but don’t think it’s likely to save you, Dearie.”

“I’d be disappointed if it did.” A wicked grin curls along her lips for a moment, then  “I still don’t see why it bothers you so much.”

“He’s too familiar, Dearie, and your weekly dates only encourage him.”

“Meeting a friend for tea is hardly a date, Rum.” Her fingers sift through the hair at his collar. “You’re not forgetting he’s the one who let me out of that horrid basement and sent me to you, are you?”

“I’m not forgetting anything, Love. I’m not forgetting that he’s the one who helped that damnable bitch hide you away from me so that my magic couldn’t find you when she told me you were dead. I’m not forgetting that he left you to rot in that hole for almost thirty years before lifting a finger to help you… and don’t tell me was afraid of Regina. And while we’re remembering, you’d do well to remember that he sent you to me because he was too weak to kill her himself and thought he could provoke me to do it for him.”

“You know he didn’t have a choice when he took me away, Rum. She threatened his wife. At least he was kind to me.” His only response to that is a derisive snort. “It was much worse in the queen’s dungeon when he brought me back. Besides, I don’t see the point in holding a grudge when he’s the reason I found my way back to you…” she holds up a hand when he draws in breath to protest “… regardless of his reasons,” and then allows the hand to fall to his tie, her fingers playing absently with the knotted silk. “It’s only tea.”  This earns her another snort.

“I seem to recall him following you into my shop to  _hug_  you,” he reminds her pointedly, “which has nothing to do with tea. That self-serving little bastard has no reason to put his hands on what’s mine.”

“Oh, so you own me now, do you?” She raises an eyebrow and squirms against him, trying to push away from the counter, but he leans into her, hands gripping the counter on either side of her hips to hold her firmly in place, and brings his face down so that his nose brushes hers.

“In point of fact, I do, Dearie,” he teases. “There is the matter of our deal…” and at that she rolls her eyes again.

“Well then, maybe you’d like me to wear a tshirt that reads  _property of Rumplestiltskin_ ,” she suggests archly. “Make sure everyone knows not to touch?” earning her a rich chuckle as he presses himself even closer.

“I don’t think that will be necessary, Dearie…” he flashes her a mischievous grin, “but perhaps a small reminder.”

Satisfied that the length of his body against hers is enough to hold her in place, he allows his hands to move to her throat, fingers working at the buttons of the fitted shirt she wears, spreading the collar open. He leans down to nuzzle the side of her neck before nipping his way up until he reaches a spot just beneath her jaw and settles in to worry the tender flesh with his teeth. He alternates between biting and drawing her skin into his mouth until Belle is moaning his name, hands fisted in his hair and hips tilting up to his. He’d chose that particular spot not only because its too high to be covered by any of her collars, but also because he knows it is one of the places that can reliably drive her insane at the feel of his teeth skimming over her exposed throat. When he is completely satisfied that the bruise has no chance of fading before next week’s tea with the Hatter, he allows a little mercy in his attentions, tongue replacing teeth to soothe the sensitive skin. 

His Belle produces something between a hiss and a growl and he feels her fingers tighten in his hair as she tugs his head back and brings his mouth to hers. He had every intention of teasing her mercilessly, punishing her for her insistence on these weekly teas, but her tongue thrusting into his mouth coupled with her body squirming against him weakens his resolve. Belle was right when she’d said he was determined to claim her when she returned from her meetings with Jefferson, and that particular need reasserts itself with every roll of her hips. With a distinct growl of his own, he pulls away from her, roughly spinning her around so that she’s facing the counter, and bending her forward with a hand pressed flat between her shoulders. 

“Stay,” he orders, his hands moving to tug her skirt up to her waist and then to the waistband of her knickers, pulling them down along trembling thighs. He trails his fingers back up the inside of her thighs and slips them between her legs, groaning when he feels her wet heat, and hears her tiny yelp of pleasure as he flicks a fingernail across her. 

“Please, Rum,” she gasps, “don’t make me wait,” and the urgency in her voice, the needy moan that escapes her, destroys whatever control he might have possessed.

He is fumbling with his zipper before she can finish her plea, murmuring a harsh command to spread her legs as he takes himself in hand and moves forward to guide his cock into her. She cries out when he plunges his full length in her and forces her head down to the counter with a hand tangled in her dark curls, grasping her hip with the the other, pulling her back against him as he pumps into her hard and fast. She is hot and wet, her ass pushing back against him with each trust, and the small part of his mind capable of thought still marvels that he can excite her so. He feels her tighten around him just before she screams his name and follows her over the edge with a violent shudder, finally collapsing over her and breathing two words against the back of her neck. 

_“You’re mine.”_


End file.
